TEAM
by T'Pring
Summary: Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon and Rodney are trapped in a maze of deadly clues. Sheppard is injured and with time running out, Rodney must solve the ultimate puzzle - how to escape before John succumbs to poison and they are all trapped forever.
1. Chapter 1

_Weight on her shoulders._

 _A puff of labored breath against her hair._

 _The scuff of sole against gravel._

 _Warm skin and sunscreen and that sweet scent that belonged only to John, all of it tainted by the tang of blood._

"Leave me." John's voice was little more than a groan, but Teyla continued on, relentless.

"We will stop when we reach the next Puzzle Stage. You can rest while Rodney solves the puzzle and then you will be ready for the next round." _And the next, and the next…_

John's answer was a resigned gasp, but she felt a little of his weight lift from her shoulders as he mustered yet another ounce of strength.

The walls they walked between were tall and smooth. The creamy white marbled surface was cold to the touch, but otherwise felt like nothing else she'd ever experienced. John called it a giant Kong toy, whatever that meant. Ronon called it soapstone - a Satedan element that felt soft but would not flake or scratch and was slippery when pressed against. Rodney used a lot of words like "Teflon" and "Silicone" that held no meaning for her, but ultimately summarized the problem best: "We can't break, dig under, or climb it, so who cares what it's made of."

They _had_ tried breaking, digging, and climbing the wall in the moments after the trap had sprung. Now, they walked in claustrophobic canyons between the indescribable walls with only a thin strip of blue sky visible overhead as if to taunt them. Splotches of blood on the tidy, white gravel trailed them.

When they reached the next turn in the canyon maze, Teyla's shoulders were aching and John's weight hung heavily again over them. She suppressed her own anxious sigh when a large courtyard opened before them. The now-too-familiar Puzzle Stage - a raised platform with a central podium - loomed over the space like a judge's throne. John sagged immediately to the ground and dropped his head to his knees. Ronon and Rodney just stood, facing the podium and their own fears.

"Let me look at your wounds," Teyla ordered, kneeling beside John. It took a couple more soft words of prodding and a final sharp command for John to comply. When he did, it was with a groan and a flop of his head against the rubbery wall that caused a very slight, very low vibration to run along its weirdly malleable length.

Teyla tugged gently on John's right leg, murmuring encouragement as she straightened the savaged limb for a better look. The compression bandages wrapped around John's upper thigh were soaked through, the flesh underneath was swollen and oozing more than blood. She fought tears of frustration as even her gentle probing brought gasps of endurance. John lay against the wall, his eyes tightly closed, his fists and his shoulders tight.

"I must change the bandages. Again," she informed him. He just nodded with a hard swallow.

Behind her, Ronon and Rodney approached the puzzle stage and she kept a fraction of her attention on them, ready to lend assistance if needed. They had been lured into complacency by the first two puzzles that had been easy (for Rodney) and benign. She would not make that mistake again.

* * *

"The first two must have been meant to teach us how the system works," Rodney said in an exaggerated stage whisper as he followed a bit too closely behind Ronon's right shoulder. "The main chemical constituent of glass and Hooke's Law aren't exactly challenges."

Both men were shooting nervous looks around them as they walked. Rodney kept glancing back at Teyla and Sheppard who really didn't look so good after that monster snake-thing had taken a hunk out of his leg on the last puzzle stage.

"The third one meant to kill us." Ronon's succinct summary only caused Rodney to draw even closer.

"Yes. Or kill one of us, at least. That thing went straight for Sheppard. It's a good thing you carry a sword."

Rodney shivered a little, remembering the long poison-green beast bursting out of the puzzle stage podium with such force that it had knocked Rodney down with a mere brush against his leg. He'd thought he was dead. Instead, the enormous snake - as thick around as Teyla - had lunged at John and locked 2 inch fangs into his thigh. What followed was yelling and chaos and blood everywhere. Ronon's blaster seemed not to even warm the armored scales, but the sword had cut through its body like a hot knife through butter. Or was that a knife through hot butter? He could never remember.

He glanced again at where Teyla was tending John. A lot of the yelling had been John which was disturbing on a whole other level.

"Just get the answer right, this time, McKay."

"I got it right the last time!" Rodney squeaked in protest. " _What do sunrise, shadows, and Caesium have in common?_ The only possible answer is measuring time. Although it was the Caesium that gave the riddle away. It's obvious that Caesium 133 is closely associated with atomic clocks on Earth, so working backwards, it makes sense that the periodic transition of day/night and shadows in the form of sundials have also been used to demark the passage of time throughout ancient history - "

"Then why were we attacked?" Ronon interrupted.

"How should I know! Time was the right answer, though. You have to wonder why these riddles are so Earth-centric in terminology. We'd have been screwed if the questions used some other culture's preferred element for time-keeping, or even another culture's _name_ for the element - "

"Sheppard doesn't have time for us to wonder. We need to get out of this damn maze."

Rodney opened his mouth to rebut, but hesitated as Ronon's words tickled something in his brain.

"Answer the puzzle, McKay." Ronon stepped to the side and grabbed Rodney's arm so as to push him onto the platform. They'd reached the puzzle stage.

A sense of dread filled his stomach. The puzzles had been fun at first. He'd felt smart and helpful. Now, his answers were coming to life like a wicked Genie who twisted the wisher's good intentions into evil. Time was the answer to the puzzle, and now, Sheppard didn't have time; the beast's venom was as effective as any countdown timer. If they didn't get John help before the poison overwhelmed his respiratory system...

"You do it," Rodney blurted, pulling away from Ronon's grip. Ronon just stared at him. "No, I mean it. I got the answer right, I know I did. So, maybe it's not about the answer but about the answer _er_."

"McKay!" Ronon's growl was dangerous and his grip on Rodney's arm was getting painful.

"I… have my reasons. I just have this gut feeling that there's more to this maze than the puzzles. He stared Ronon down and was a bit pleased with himself that he managed to hold his gaze. "I'll help you answer the questions, I'll give you the answer. Just… you be the one to stand at the podium."

Ronon's expression grew conflicted. He flicked his eyes around the courtyard, futilely looking for the door that they all knew wouldn't open until the question was answered. His gaze finally fell on John and Teyla and his face settled into determination.

"Ok." Ronon stepped onto the platform.

Rodney followed close behind. As before, there was what appeared to be a stone tablet on the podium. Rodney had his suspicions about what kind of material it actually was, but the riddle was always there, carved into the tablet. You only had to speak the answer for the doors to the next level to open. Or the giant snake to jump out.

Ronon took a deep breath, then stepped up to the podium.

"Like the crossbow pulled to fly an arrow and the pebble rolled down a hill that starts an avalanche, the application of _this_ with strategy and cunning multiplies itself."

Rodney's heart stopped. Not literally. But it might as well have because they were dead. He didn't know the answer. It wasn't about physics or chemistry. Or physics. He didn't know anything about arrows and pebbles. He could calculate the rate of descent of a pebble in any atmosphere if he knew the temperature and density. The other puzzles had all been easy. For him. They were going to die. The door would never open to the next level of the maze and they would starve and Sheppard would foam at the mouth and die of snake venom and -

"Energy."

Rodney blinked. "What did you say?"

Ronon looked excited. Well, excited for Ronon. "Energy. The answer is Energy. It's a passage from Viro Sal's Treatise on Combat. All trainees study it. _Like the crossbow pulled to fly an arrow and the pebble rolled down a hill that starts an avalanche, the application of energy with strategy and cunning multiplies itself."_

"I'll be damned," Rodney murmured. He poked furiously at his scanner. It was still completely blank as it had been since the maze walls materialized around them. "The podiums are somehow reading our minds. The puzzles _do_ depend on who's standing there. It's a good thing you paid attention in school. Ronon?"

"Rodney!"

Teyla's shout startled him and he jerked his head up to see her racing across the courtyard towards them, waving her arms. He spun back to the podium to see Ronon gasping within a glowing field that had formed around him like a dome around an anniversary clock. He took an involuntary step away, watching Ronon pound against the field, then clutch at his chest. He was suffocating.

"Rodney. What is the field made of? How do we disrupt it?" Teyla had reached the platform and was pounding her fists on the field from the outside with as little effect as Ronon.

Dumbly, Rodney looked at his scanner. It was still dead.

"I… don't know. Scanner doesn't work." Ronon was turning a deeper red with each passing moment and all Rodney could think of was that he was going to watch his friend die.

Teyla turned her fists on him, pounding his shoulders until he dragged his gaze away from Ronon to look at her. Her expression was fierce. "Think, Rodney. What _could_ the field be made of? What would you do to disrupt _any_ field. Think! It's just another puzzle. This whole damn place is just another puzzle!"

"Just a puzzle?" he repeated. That tickle in the back of his mind went off again.

"Yes! Rodney, solve the puzzle. _Please._ " She began striking the field again. Ronon was beginning to sag against the inside, his shoulder pressed close to where Teyla pounded.

 _The answer to the puzzle that set the snake on Sheppard was Time._

 _Only time could save Sheppard from the poison._

 _Ronon's answer was Energy._

Could it be that energy would save Ronon? _What kind of energy?_

 _The application of energy with strategy and cunning multiplies itself._

Small explosions went off inside Rodney's brain and he snapped his fingers, willing the rest of the answer to flow. He fumbled at his waist for his wraith stunner.

"Teyla! Stand back. I'm going to try disrupting the field with the stunner."

Teyla instantly whirled aside and Rodney fired. Nothing happened. Nothing useful at least - the field shimmered slightly as it absorbed the stunner's blast in a swirling wash of barely noticeable color around the field, then settled. Rodney fired again, paying close attention to the pattern of the swirls, then adjusted the settings on the stunner. Each setting triggered a slightly different swirl and color pattern, but none disrupted the field entirely.

"Rodney," Teyla pleaded clenching and unclenching her fists.

Frustrated, he fired several times in succession on the setting that seemed to evoke the deepest colors and swirls. The patterns joined and the field darkened, but it did not collapse. Ronon, however, did collapse - slowly and horribly - to lay crumpled in a ball at the bottom of the bell.

"Nothing!" he shouted. Teyla howled in frustration of her own and began pounding on the field, even before the swirls had stopped from his last fire. Where her fists struck the swirls, they flickered ever-so-slightly. Had the stunner weakened the field? No. Once the swirls faded, Teyla's fists had no more effect than at first. Was it the combination of…. Energy!

"Teyla! Fire at the field with your handgun once I agitate the field with the stunner."

Teyla was shaking with fury, but she instantly drew her weapon and readied it. Rodney began pumping bursts from the stunner into the field again until it was almost opaque with swirling colors. "Now! Fire! See what happens with a round or two, then keep firing."

The first bullet ricocheted almost into Rodney's foot, but Teyla quickly adjusted her angle and fired again, then three times in succession. The bullets sparked, leaving behind an expanding ring of flickering energy. She threw him a hopeful look.

"It's working. Fire as many as you can as quickly as you can. Concentrate on one spot."

"I have 10 more rounds in this clip. I will then have to reload."

"Let's hope 10 is enough so we don't have to start over. Go."

Rodney pumped electromagnetic energy into the field while Teyla blasted it with kinetic energy in the form of projectiles. The flickering grew dense, expanded, then with a anticlimactic _pop_ , the field vanished. Rodney almost shot Ronon with a last stunner burst but managed to jerk his finger off the trigger in time.

Teyla lunged and caught Ronon's head before it hit the platform.

"He's breathing," she choked out.

" _He's_...fine…" Ronon croaked. The large man allowed Teyla to help him sit up. He took deep deliberate breaths and seemed less shaky with each gasp of fresh air.

Rodney didn't know what he could say to make either Ronon or Teyla feel better, so he just blurted out the thoughts that were crashing around in his head at the moment. "Energy. The answer was energy. It took multiple types to collapse the field, but the puzzle's answer was also the solution to the attack. We need to remember that for the next puzzle."

"I didn't...get it...wrong?" Ronon panted, throwing Rodney a closed look.

"No. You got it right. Which isn't reassuring. If that's the reward for being correct, what must happen if we get it wrong?"

"If we get it wrong, we don't have the solution to the attack." Ronon's expression was as thoughtful as he ever got. "And the solution to Sheppard's problem is time. We need to move. Now."

Ronon heaved himself to his feet with only a little help from Teyla. Rodney grinned, surprised and pleased that Ronon had also figured out the secondary puzzle.

"Agreed."

"Go help Teyla."

Rodney jogged after Teyla to where John lay slumped against the wall, his own weapon drawn but in a loose grip against the ground. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply.

"He must have been roused by the gunfire," Teyla murmured gently, returning the gun to John's holster.

"Ev'ryone s'alright?" John slurred when they tugged him into a more upright slouch.

"Thanks to Rodney," Teyla replied firmly. Rodney blushed.

" _And_ Teyla," he replied at last. "It took both of us to collapse the energy trap."

Together, they heaved, and pulled John up to stand on his good leg.

"Move!" Ronon bellowed from beside the hole in the courtyard that had opened, as expected.

Even with both of them supporting most of his weight, John barely had the strength to limp along between them. As Rodney and Teyla coordinated their steps to move more efficiently, that tickle went off in Rodney's brain again.

 _It took both of them to rescue Ronon._

 _It would take all of them to carry John out of here in turns._

 _This place was puzzles on top of puzzles._

"Leave me," John gasped as they entered the maze that would certainly lead to more puzzles. Teyla shot Rodney a look of deep concern.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sheppard. We don't leave people behind. You know that." _And besides,_ Rodney added, but only to himself, _we may not be able to get out of this place alive without you._


	2. Chapter 2

He'd endured pain before. But not like this. The stabbing ache in his seeping leg was merely a pinprick compared to the fiery agony every nerve in his body was screaming. The venom was creeping from his thigh to his torso to his chest as if he were slowly being submerged in acid.

He wanted to curl up and pass out so the pain would stop. So he didn't have to witness his own body dissolve into soup from the ground up.

"Leave me," he moaned. For the first time in his career it was not an altruistic plea. He was not begging for the relief of his team, he was begging for himself. It was all he could do to stay conscious and otherwise silent. He was afraid if he kept going, he'd start screaming. If he started screaming, he'd pass out. The only reason he _was_ still conscious was because he wouldn't commit his team to that horror. He would only succumb to agony in privacy.

"We're not going over this again." Rodney's rebuke was frustration and fear and even a little anger.

So John kept himself conscious, mostly, and kept himself quiet.

It was quiet in the maze, too. Only Rodney's labored breathing, Teyla's quiet murmurs of encouragement and the constant shush of boots over gravel broke the odd stillness. The rhythmic patterns of sound formed into drumlines and percussion licks in John's hazy mind, repetitive and soothing. Maybe he could sleep without screaming. That would be better than passing out. Maybe…

"Sheppard!"

John startled, then realized his chin had been lolling against his chest when he jerked upright.

"Keep...walking?" he panted.

"No. You can sit for a little while, but you need to stay awake while we solve this puzzle and deal with whatever sadistic test pops out."

John concentrated and realized that they were in another courtyard next to another puzzle stage. He hadn't even been aware they'd reached it. Teyla was lowering him beside the platform and he leaned heavily against the wooden frame. Rodney was crouched in front of him and Ronon hovered close behind. It was good they were close. The edges of his vision were getting blurry and...faded.

"Sheppard? I mean it. You have got to stay with us," Rodney was saying, his voice way more serious than encouraging. "These puzzles require all of us to solve. The next one may have something to do with something only you know about or can understand. If we don't all participate, we all die."

John saw Teyla throw a startled look at Rodney, but Ronon was just nodding.

"Do you understand? John, can you keep yourself awake?"

 _What do you think I've been doing the past eternity?_ was what John wanted to say, but he didn't have the strength. So he just nodded and mustered enough energy for a double-thumbs up.

Rodney frowned, clearly unconvinced, but he stood and faced the others. "Who should read the puzzle, this time?"

"I'll do it," Ronon answered immediately, but Teyla raised a hand. John saw her expression go thoughtful.

"Ronon's question was a passage from a military text. Rodney's were science terms. Both are fundamental aspects of your character. I am trade master and leader of my people. My fundamental character should be negotiation and the pursuit of harmony. Perhaps this will render the puzzle less...violent?"

"I hardly think science is inherently violent, but you have an interesting point. If you're willing to risk it… That might work."

"We'll back you up if it doesn't," Ronon snarled. John blinked to clear the ever thickening fog and saw that Ronon had both his sword and his blaster drawn.

"I will expect nothing less," Teyla answered. She squared her shoulders and stepped onto the platform, the two men close behind her.

John twisted to watch. The stabs of pain the motion sent along his nerves were mercifully dulled by an adrenaline jolt of fear. He could just see the podium and still prop his shoulder.

"Read it out loud," Rodney ordered once Teyla had reached the tablet. She took a steadying breath, then read:

"Listen to my voice, baby  
Momma's gonna sing  
Quiet when the birds sleep  
Loud when wraith scream

Listen to my voice baby  
Momma is right here  
Nothing past my voice is real.  
Inside my voice, no fear"

There was a long pause. Even John was aware enough to know that this puzzle was different.

"What's it mean?" Rodney half-shouted in a stage whisper.

"It's an Athosian lullaby," Teyla said slowly. John saw her look around in fearful jerks. "It's a song we sing to children who are afraid to sleep. My mother sang it to me. It is not a… question?"

"You supposed to sing something?" Ronon grunted, succinct as always.

John could see Rodney shrug but nothing happened. No one moved or spoke. The tension of waiting for something, anything, to happen felt like a knot twisting inside John's stomach. A moment later, the tension throbbed into audible sound. John slapped his hands over his ears. Though the sound wasn't loud, it _was_ painful.

"Sing something! The song says sing loud to drown out the Wraith." Rodney's voice sounded panicky to John.

Teyla began to sing - the very lullaby on the tablet, in fact - and the painful sound faded.

"It worked!" Rodney cried and Teyla stopped. Instantly the sound returned. John whimpered with the assault, already overwhelmed with pain management.

"Don't stop!" Rodney bellowed and Teyla began again. Again, the sound faded, but not entirely, this time. She sang louder and it faded again, then returned. A third time, she increased the volume of her song and the painful noise ebbed before it continued to grow.

"How do we solve it!" Ronon bellowed and John recognized pain in his voice, too. The noise seemed to fade under Ronon's words, then returned.

"It's responding to sound!" Rodney bellowed back. Again the fade and return. "When we counter the sound with an equal volume, it fades or cancels out. Like, like noise-canceling headphones. We have to match the amplitude or get our brains scrambled. Keep singing, Teyla. Sing as loud as you can!"

Rodney's rant, at even his normal (for Rodney) volume held the painful noise at bay until he stopped talking. Then it returned with even more painful force. John squeezed his eyes shut and curled up, his arms around his ears.

"Teyla, Ronon, keep singing and talking and making noise! As much noise as you can! Stomp on the stage, anything! Be as loud as you can. The amplitude keeps increasing! Be louder! Lalalalalalalala."

Even through his arms, John heard Teyla renew her voice with even louder and richer singing. Rodney began chanting equations. Ronon bellowed Satedan drill sergeant cadences. John heard thumping and clapping and stomping as well. The painful noise remained at bay for several long seconds. John heard the cacophony on the platform grow excited, hopeful even.

It didn't last long. Inevitably, inexorably, the painful noise overcame even Ronon's elephantine bellows. Teyla's voice was growing hoarse and Rodney was becoming more shrill than loud.

"Sheppard!" Rodney finally screamed through the chaos. "Sheppard, you have to make noise too! The puzzle requires all of us! Dammit, Sheppard! Yell or something! Every voice counts! Every decibel counts! _Sheppard!_ "

John huddled, wrapped in his arms. He understood. He even thought he knew why he understood. But he couldn't scream. Because if he started screaming, he wouldn't stop until his lungs collapsed and his guts turned to jelly.

"Sheppard! John, please! I was the one who painted your jumper pink that time. Me and Zelenka! Yell at me! God, please! I can't take much more!"

The cries of his friends were becoming frantic. Teyla was no longer singing, but wailing. Ronon's chants had turned to curses. John wanted to scream. But if he screamed, he'd pass out. And… his team needed him. But they needed him to scream.

"John!" Teyla yelled and it was the pain in her shriek that caused him to draw a deep breath.

 _Every voice counts!_

WIth a violent shove, John pushed himself to his knees, braced himself against the platform and cried out, "Yop!" at the top of his voice. He poured every ounce of frustration and anger and determination and hope into the cry, but he managed, just barely, to keep the pain out of it.

His teammates joined him in the howl and the power of their combined defiance echoed off the rubbery walls.

A profound silence fell over the courtyard. The painful sound was gone. Only the labored breathing of Teyla and Rodney and the thud of Ronon's restless footsteps remained.

"Well… well done, Teyla," Rodney gasped, his voice a raspy croak.

John lowered his head onto his arms, still leaning over the platform. The pain seemed to flood back into him as the adrenaline of the encounter seeped out. He began shaking.

"John, you did well. Thank you for your help," Teyla soothed, now at his side. He felt a soft touch on his shoulder.

"You had all the curse words in the universe to shout and you said _Yop?_ " Rodney was also close, now.

"A person's….a person….no matter… how small…" John gasped and flopped to the ground to sit against the platform. He raised his arms, asking for help to stand again. Ronon pulled him upright, almost easily, and he settled in the large man's grasp, looking at Rodney. "And Whoville was saved by the smallest of all."

Rodney chuckled as Teyla exclaimed "Oh! _Horton Hears a Who_! Jennifer gave me that book to read to Torren. John has done so many times."

"Great...book," John agreed.

"Well, let's hope the damn Wickersham brothers who are running this insane maze heard your Yop as well. Because I'm just just about done with it." Rodney stalked away, taking the lead towards the newest opening in the courtyard walls.

"Me, too," John breathed. Ronon half supported, half carried John into the next section of the maze. As the canyon went on and on, the pain returned in triple. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. John could no longer feel the ground under his feet and had to simply trust that it was there.

But, John kept himself conscious, mostly. And he kept himself quiet.


	3. Chapter 3

Rodney stalked between the walls, his fists clenched and his mind whirling with anger. He was SO done with this maze. Energy. Amplitude. Time. These were beautiful, universal concepts and this torture chamber disguised as a puzzle was twisting them, distorting nature itself. To use the very concept of sound as a weapon was… blasphemy.

He rounded another corner and saw only another turn ahead of him. Frustrated, he threw a fist against the wall as he turned. It vibrated with a long, low _bonggggggg._ So low, it was almost inaudible. He jerked the hand back, afraid he'd triggered the puzzle's sound torture again, but the vibration faded.

No less angry, but a little more cautious, he continued through the maze, going over everything they'd learned or seen while in it. The last puzzle wasn't even a riddle with an answer. It was just a clue. Maybe that's how they should think of the puzzle stages - as clues rather than questions to be answered. But what the hell did any of it have to do with getting out?

"Teyla. Help me with him."

Ronon's voice drifted from beyond the last turn and Rodney jogged back to his teammates, not having realized he'd gotten so far ahead. When he saw Teyla and Ronon juggling a limp and nearly unconscious Sheppard, the anger returned, only slightly less potent than his fear for his friend.

"He cannot walk any further," Teyla was saying.

Rodney agreed with her. John was so pale, he looked almost translucent. He was breathing hard in great raspy gasps and sweat slicked his brows and neck. If he was conscious, it was in name only - his eyes were glazed and he seemed unaware.

"I'll carry him. Help me get him over my shoulders."

Together, Rodney and Teyla helped Ronon tug John into a fireman's carry where he went limp, almost with relief.

"Let's just hope we can wake him up at the next puzzle stage," Rodney growled.

They walked the final turns to the next courtyard in a close clump. Rodney at Ronon's elbow to help support the incredible burden the man carried, Teyla close beside John's head crooning desperate encouragement.

When they struggled the last steps into the final courtyard, they all paused, taking it in. Rodney knew it _must_ be the final puzzle, because this courtyard had the look and feel of an open-air concert - minus the band or any crowds. This stage was against the far wall instead of centered, and was lit with colored lights. Rodney couldn't see any source of the lights, but he'd given up trying to make sense of this place.

As they slowly made their way across the empty space towards the stage, Rodney realized that this time, the stage was also made of the same material as the walls. As they got closer, he saw that, in fact, the stage WAS part of the wall - a seamless extension of creamy Kong rubber (to borrow Sheppard's description even though Rodney would argue til he passed out that the material was anything but natural rubber) molded into the shape of a platform and podium.

They didn't speak. Each was holding their own fear in check. They simply climbed the two short steps to the platform and helped Ronon slip John off his shoulders where he slid down the wall into a heap. Rodney crouched with Teyla as she began to pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. When gentle didn't work, Ronon pulled and sat him upright against the wall, then gave his shoulder a shake. Rodney thumped John's sweat-spiky hair.

"Sheppard, I know it's probably a lot more comfortable where you are than here, but we need you here. This has got to be the last puzzle and that's either great or really terrifying."

Teyla jerked her head towards Rodney. "You think this is the last puzzle?"

"I don't know of course, but the stage is different. The lighting is different. It feels like a performance or something. The big finale."

John was moaning and Ronon shook his shoulder harder. John's head bobbed off his chest, then with a great groan, he writhed against the wall, his face a mask of pain, his body tense and shaking. His eyes flew open and he looked wildly around. Another gasp, then groan, escaped through tightly clenched teeth.

"John!" Teyla cried, her voice broken with sympathy. She knelt beside him to press him firmly against the wall and keep him from sliding sideways.

"Huurrrrts," John gapsed. "Can't breathe." He writhed again, one hand clawing feebly at the wall, the other clutching at his shirt as if loosening it would help him breathe.

"Solve the puzzle, Rodney!" Teyla commanded. "Do it quickly. GO!"

Rodney scrambled to his feet and was grateful when Ronon followed him, weapons drawn. He didn't even pause as he stepped up to the podium. He was no longer worried about the riddles. They were simply the means to the true end which was to pass the test that followed.

The stone tablet was there with only four words written on it.

"Solid, Liquid, Gas, Plasma," he read aloud carefully, then looked around with a jerk for the snake or the energy field or whatever horror was to be unleashed. Nothing happened. The courtyard was silent except for Sheppard's increasingly frantic groans.

"What's it mean?" Ronon grunted, also looking around, his arms bulging as he readied his weapons.

"They're four phases of matter. Ice is the solid phase of water, for example."

"What's it mean?" Ronon repeated.

"I don't know, yet. In the last three puzzles, the answer had something to do with the correct response to the attack. Do you see anything?"

"No."

Still, they waited. Still, nothing happened.

"The wall closed," Ronon said. Rodney jerked his gaze to the section of the wall they'd passed through only minutes ago. A quick scan confirmed that no new door had opened.

"We're stuck here? Where's the test? The attack? Why the hell go through all that only to sit and rot at the end?"

"Ronon! Help me!"

Teyla's cry jolted their attention back to John who was in the throes of a convulsion. Teyla was struggling to keep him pinned against the wall as he twitched and writhed. Ronon flung himself down on John's other side and together they held his shoulders against the wall until the seizure slowed. John finally stopped twitching and sat in a limp sprawl, his head slowing banging against the wall creating a constant low _bonggggg_ that set the whole courtyard humming.

"His pulse is racing. His respiration is shallow and labored. His skin is cool and clammy. Rodney, John is dying. The venom is overwhelming his body. We must get him to help. What was the last puzzle? How do we at least move on?"

Teyla's icy calm matter-of-factness was more frightening to Rodney than any display of panic. He just stared at Sheppard banging his head against the wall.

"The...the last clue is _matter_. Or the phases of matter." He looked around quickly, afraid that stating the clue again might trigger an attack. Again, nothing happened and it was worse than the other attacks. Because this time, _nothing_ meant Sheppard's time would run out. Time...

 _Time. Energy. Amplitude. Matter._

"Does that help John?" Teyla demanded, but the tickle in the back of his brain was threatening to become a full-fledged tremor. It throbbed in time to Sheppard's low _bonggggs_.

"Wait, wait, wait…." Rodney exclaimed, desperately trying to bring the thought into focus.

"There is no time. Rodney, please. What do we do?"

Rodney covered his ears with his hands and spun in frustration.

 _This whole place is a puzzle within a puzzle._

 _Bongggg_

 _Even the clues that weren't about physics were about physics such as Ronon's energy and Teyla's amplitude._ That _was what he was trying to get into focus._

"All the clues have to do with physics," he repeated the thought out loud. "Maybe… maybe if we put them together, they'll suggest a solution to the final attack."

 _Bongggg_

"Attack? What attack?" Ronon spat, looking around at the nothingness.

"A closed door and nowhere to go while Sheppard dies. That's as effective an attack as any other we've been subjected to."

 _Bonggg_

"So, the clues are meant to tell us how to escape?" Teyla suggested, hesitant.

"Yes! That's what I said."

 _Bonggg_

"Then what is the answer?"

"THAT'S WHAT I'M TRYING TO FIGURE OUT! Now, could you please stop him from making that infernal bonging so I can think?" Rodney yelled, frustration fueled by fear overwhelming what little control he maintained. "Wait!"

And with a shiver of understanding, the answer simply appeared, fully formed. It wasn't obvious. It wasn't easy, but in retrospect it was… elegant.

"I've got it! Oh, wow, I know what to do. Teyla, Ronon, stand beside the wall. When I tell you, hit it with your fists as hard as you can."

They just stared at him, eyebrows raised, skepticism etched onto both faces. "You want us to bang on the wall?" Ronon scoffed.

"Yes! Yes! It's flexible. This whole complex is a giant instrument of sorts. The elasticity of the matter amplifies the vibrations at this point. If we can excite the molecules in the wall at a specific frequency, or maybe achieve a high enough amplitude, then something will happen."

"Something?"

"Just do it."

Teyla and Ronon remained wary, but they stood and hesitantly began to thump on the wall. As it began to ring in louder and higher pitches - like overtones on a string instrument - their confidence grew and they banged harder. Rodney joined them. The whole courtyard vibrated with waves of sound that set Rodney's teeth on edge, but it was just random noise.

"Stop. Stop!" They stopped, looked expectantly at him. He wrung his hands. "We need to coordinate better. We need to set up an oscillation that aligns the soundwaves and reinforces their impact."

"Like rhythm in music reinforces the pitches, or percussion reinforces a song."

"Sure. Ok, if you say so."

"How do we do that?" Ronon snapped, as ever focused on the prosaic.

"Um, let's start by hitting together, in time."

They tried. Not being a musician, or even musical, Rodney struggled to match the pattern of the others. He was constantly ahead or behind until Teyla started to sing. Somehow, it became much easier then and their beats gained confidence. They thumped the wall in time to her song - a harvest song he realized after several repetitions of the chorus - and the courtyard again rang with noise, but it wasn't grating. If Rodney had known anything about music, he would have said that the wall sang in tune.

But it still wasn't enough. They were on the right track, Rodney could feel it, but they didn't have the right combination yet.

"Try beating different patterns, but keep them synchronized," he shouted over the wall-song.

"Different rhythms?" Teyla shouted back.

"Sure, if that's what it's called. Different rhythms."

They tried. Like before, they struggled to find patterns that were different and also in time. Teyla had stopped singing as she concentrated and Rodney was about to ask her to sing again when Ronon beat him to it. Or rather, _Ronon_ began singing.

It wasn't a sweet, clear working song, like Teyla's, it was a marching chant, with few pitches and words that evoked strength and the emotions of war. Rodney found himself focusing on one of the frequently repeated phrases and pounded the wall in time to it. _Bro-thers in arms, and sis-ters in vic-to-ry; Bro-thers in arms, and sis-ters in vic-to-ry_

Teyla was pounding a pattern that sounded like _Bro-thers and sis-ters and bro-thers and sis-ters_

Ronon pounded _vic-to-ry, vic-to-ry, vic-to-r_ y over and over

And each time their downbeats converged, the wall bonged with an intensity that Rodney felt he could almost see the soundwaves.

"Keep singing! Keep beating!" Rodney screamed. Ronon sang even louder. The very air seemed to shimmer and the wall was visibly vibrating. Waves and ripples in swirling patterns chased around the courtyard and under their feet on the stage. The vibrations under his feet were growing so strong, it felt like an earthquake.

And then, the wall vanished.

Technically, it melted.

With a great sploosh, the wall collapsed into liquid and was instantly absorbed by the gravel they now stood upon. There was nothing around them but a vast open field, half covered by white gravel. Mountains hovered on the horizon, purple in the evening twilight. It was utterly silent, again. Almost.

"Sheppard! Teyla! Thank God!"

Rodney turned dumbly after he regained his balance on the ground a foot from where the platform had just melted to see Major Lorne and at least two more gate teams pounding in their direction from several hundred yards away. One of the men carried a medical pack.

Rodney sank to the ground and put his head in his hands. He was shaking. His brain hurt. He would never look at a riddle again for as long as he lived.

At last, the pounding became audible, but it was the satisfying thump of boots on gravel. Rodney looked up to find several men huddled around Sheppard. Teyla was barking orders and Ronon stood nearby, flexing his arms. Readying himself to carry Sheppard to the stargate that was a half-klik away, but in sight.

He heaved himself to his feet, but before he could check on Sheppard, there was a shout of alarm. He whirled towards the spot where several soldiers were pointing.

Standing next to the podium - the only thing that remained of the maze - was an elegant old man dressed in a fantastic silk suit and draped with a gaudy, bejeweled cloak.

"Caelinus, my friend! How did you like the puzzle? I worked long on it just to please you. I hope dear Floriana is with you. I had her lovely songs in mind when I crafted the escape."

The soldiers just looked at each other, then turned to Rodney who shrugged.

"Come, come! Surely a gift as elaborate as this deserves a word of gratitude! Say _something_ Caelinus!"

One of the soldiers gave Rodney a "go on" wave. Rodney stepped closer.

"I'm not Caelinus. Who are you?"

"Not Caelinus, eh. So he sent a servant to solve my puzzle. Well, I am disappointed. But you must tell your master that it was a wonderful maze and please encourage him to visit in person. It will reset in time. You will, of course, be beheaded if you reveal the solution."

Rodney watched closely and realized that the old man was, in fact, a holographic projection.

"I'm not a servant of Caelinus either. Who are you? Why did you build this torture chamber?"

There was a pause, as if the projector had frozen or lost its connection. "I worked long on this puzzle just to please you. I had Floriana's lovely songs in mind when I crafted the escape." Rodney recognized the phrase as almost identical to what it had said before, but it added, "I owed you something spectacular after the impressive game you set for me on my last visit. I now expect a challenge equal to my efforts upon my next visit. The fliffle is in your quad, my friend."

"Yeah, yeah. I don't care a damn about your puzzle. Who are you? What's your name?" Rodney was gaining an inkling of the situation, and it was making him angry.

"I am _the_ Maximianus Vibius, friend of your master and lord of this region of the galaxy. Tell your master that I wish to speak to him, soon."

And with a haughty wave of his hand, the image vanished. A couple soldiers snickered at the man's name. Rodney just rolled his eyes, too tired to muster even ire. Lorne and the medic team were loading Sheppard onto a portable stretcher and Teyla was hustling them towards the stargate, which was the only place Rodney wanted to go.

"So long, Maximianus," he muttered. "Thanks for the puzzle. I'll be sure to pass on my review to Caelinus. _After_ I blow this place to Hell."

And if John didn't survive after all their desperate efforts, Rodney thought as he turned to follow John's very grim escorts, he might just devote himself to inventing a time machine to go back and personally send good ol' Max there, too.


	4. Chapter 4

The lights were dim in the infirmary which suited Teyla's mood. It felt brooding and somber, like waiting for thunder after a flash of lightning. John lay on the bed nearby, still and pale and sweating out the puzzle's poison. Ronon was asleep in a chair next to the bed - his hand cocked against his hip as if, even in sleep, he could defend John from the horrors of recovery.

She was angry, but there was no one to direct her anger towards except a 10,000 year old dead buffoon.

Rodney shuffled into the room, wrung his hands for a moment while he looked at John, then sagged into the chair next to her.

"We blew the place up," he stated after a comfortable silence.

"Good."

"Yes. Maximianus has hosted his last murder mystery party."

"His… what?" Teyla twisted to throw Rodney a questioning look.

"It's a party game back on Earth. You invite friends over and someone pretends to get killed and then the rest have to solve the murder using clues the host provides."

"This….is considered fun?"

"I wouldn't really know. No one ever invited me to one. But it was all the rage when I was in Antarctica."

"Ah."

More long moments of silence passed. John labored to stay alive under his blankets. Rodney began to snore softly, but Teyla couldn't share his relaxation. She grew angrier the longer she sat.

"So this Ancient considered torture and actual murder _fun?_ Like your Earth parties?" she spat at last to the room, startling Rodney awake.

"Hmm? Oh. Apparently so. Except I suspect that to another Ancient - his buddy Caelinus for example - it wouldn't have been as close a call as it was for John."

"As it _is_. John still struggles to breathe." She clenched her fists, then forced herself to relax. Anger would not bring healing to anyone, not even herself.

"Agreed. But, what I meant was, those Ancient dudes would have known the rules and would have prepared for the 'fun' by bringing tools, antidotes, weapons, and so on in anticipation. Like we might put on protective padding and clothing for sparring or fencing. The puzzle-maker would not create anything that would have actually killed his friend. "

"The hologram referred to servants and masters. I did not think the Ancients behaved like spoiled royalty."

"That surprised me, too. I guess all towns have their idiots. We know some of them considered humans of this galaxy inferior. These two, at least, thought of themselves as lords more than they thought of themselves as Ancients, I guess. I hope _they_ didn't ascend, or, come back to Earth."

John chose that moment to suffer a minor seizure and conversation faltered as electronic monitors wailed and dedicated medical staff descended. Teyla found her knee thumping and her fists clenched when, finally, the seizure passed, the nurses left, and John continued his struggle, alone.

 _Not_ , alone, she decided and pulled her chair very close. John was still pale, perhaps even more so. Though deeply unconscious, his brow was furrowed as if in pain. His chest rose and fell around breaths as if each were a labor. She reached for his hand that was resting on top of the covers and gripped it firmly.

Ronon - awakened by the commotion - also pulled his chair closer on the other side and thumped John's shoulder. Rodney hitched himself onto the mattress by John's feet, not quite touching his friend, but lending presence and weight to the bedding.

"We wouldn't have survived without him," Rodney said at last. Teyla was surprised by the roughness in her teammate's voice and tore her attention away from John to find Rodney wringing his hands again. "The attacks required each member of the party to contribute in some way. If he had just… passed out or...given up, we would have all failed the puzzle."

"And we are here for him, now." Teyla reached her other hand towards Rodney who raised an eyebrow. Teyla added a glare and he awkwardly squeezed the very tips of her fingers. She then turned her affectionate gaze towards Ronon who thumped John's shoulder again.

"Got your back, Sheppard," he said.

"We are here, John," Teyla murmured. "You do not fight alone, but fight you must. We will be here if you need us."

They remained close through the long hours of the night. John sweat and convulsed, then, exhausted from the battle, he slept. When dawn broke over Atlantis, and John opened his eyes for the first time in hours, his friends were sprawled in sleep nearby.

* * *

John didn't remember much. He remembered being in pain. He remembered being in danger, and he remembered that his team had kept him alive in the maze. This last brought a stab of guilt as he gingerly sipped the broth that Keller had brought him. Even the bland liquid rumbled his stomach as his system continued to purge the last of poison and, apparently, any food he consumed. When he was afraid he'd lose what little he'd swallowed, he pushed the bowl to the side and took several deep breaths.

When Rodney lumbered into the infirmary a few minutes later, John was still feeling a bit green.

"Sheppard! Good to finally see you awake."

Rodney could be so annoying when he was being comforting. He plopped himself at the foot of John's bed and stared.

"Good to finally BE awake. What do you want, Rodney?"

"Want? Me? Nothing. I thought _you_ might want to know how I saved your bacon in that maze, now that your bacon is, you know, finally awake."

John could have been ticked, but he _was_ curious. So, he waved Rodney on and settled in for the lecture. A half hour later, he sat shaking his head.

"So, some rich Ancient dudes thought it was fun to create death traps for each other and hope their friend came out alive?"

"Something like that, yes."

"So, what _was_ the final solution? I don't remember anything after passing out in the maze."

Rodney's face went so somber that John raised an eyebrow. "I'm not surprised you don't remember. You were in incredible pain."

John squirmed. "Really. Tell me the solution. In case I get invited to another Murder Mystery party by this Maxi… Maxi Anus somebody."

Rodney chortled. "I called it a Murder Mystery, too. And it's Maximianus. The solution was pretty brilliant, if you ask me."

"I just did. But, I'll reserve judgement on brilliance until you tell me the solution."

"It was a brilliant solution."

"So you say."

"So your skinny butt lying there, still breathing, says."

"Fair enough."

"The answer was in the _combination_ of clues. All taken together they were: glass, elasticity (though that was a stretch using Hooke's law), time, energy, amplitude, and matter - specifically the phases of matter. When you kept banging your head against the wall, and distracting me by the way, it hit me: the _wall_ was the "matter" and we had to apply the other clues to change its phase. When we beat on it - applied energy in other words - it vibrated. Vibrations in patterns that, in the right timing and sufficient amplitude, created enough molecular disruption to break the wall. Just like the proverbial opera singer breaks a wine glass with her voice."

"So it...melted?"

"Like an ice cube in hell. The kicker was that it required the combined energy of all four of us."

John raised an eyebrow and Rodney managed to look sheepish and grateful at the same time. "Yes. Even you. You may not remember, but I was watching you. You somehow managed to bang your stupid thick head against that damn wall in time to Ronon's chant. We wouldn't have collapsed it without you. Thank you." The last was spoken with quiet formality.

John squirmed again. "I didn't…"

"Exactly. You could have passed out and left us in the lurch. You didn't. It may have only been a thump every four beats, but it was a thump that mattered. It was the 'yop' that saved the Whos. That saved...me. So, I repeat: Thank you."

Rodney nodded, his expression daring John to make light. "You're welcome," John whispered, feeling wholly unworthy. Rodney grinned, then wagged a finger.

"Of course, _I_ figured out all the clues and how to apply them, so you should also thank me."

"Thank you," John obliged and somehow felt much better.

"You're welcome," Rodney bowed with a haughty wave of his hand. "Now, I have to get back to work. Later, Sheppard. Come see me when you're done lying around."

And he was gone.

John sank into his pillows, reassured by Rodney's visit. He would have to make it a point to thank Teyla and Ronon, too. They had all been essential to surviving that Max dude's puzzle. That was hardly unusual, if a little bit more on the nose than usual.

They were a team. Even underprepared and ignorant of the rules, they had survived _because_ they were a team. Max had considered this idea novel from the way Rodney told it.

John just considered it...obvious.


End file.
